These Small Hours
by Koukla22
Summary: A series of OneShots that capture the pivotal and poignant moments of Ron and Hermione's relationship as it unfolds throughout the years during the small hours of the night, when darkness meets dawn. Deathly Hallows spoilers.
1. These Small Hours

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor any of JK Rowling's wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them.

**A/N: **This series of oneshots was inspired by the song "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas. You'll find a link to the song in my profile, if you'd like to hear it. In my mind, these pivotal moments take place in the small hours of the night... because there is something honest about the darkness before the dawn that inspires clarity. At least, it does for Ron and Hermione :)

This oneshot, the first in the series, takes place immediately following the final battle in _Deathly Hallows_.

**These Small Hours.**

* * *

Neither of them had any idea what time it was… nor did they care. 

The sky outside was a swirl of crimson sunset and gray smoke with patches of the fading starry heavens breaking through in places, seeming terribly out of place amidst the tragic setting. As they sat together in the dim classroom, Hermione and Ron echoed the silence that surrounded them in the aftermath of the final battle.

Hermione stood near the door, wringing her hands fretfully as she watched Ron, seated in a desk facing away from her, unmoving.

"Ron, talk to me," Hermione said softly to his back, breaking the silence for the first time since they had entered the empty room.

He did not turn around. His eyes were fixed on the sky where, beyond the trees of the forest, the sun was nearly in full view, shedding light upon the war ravaged grounds.

Hermione moved towards him hesitantly and placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"Ron…"

He shook her off.

"Not now, Hermione," He finally answered, though he did not remove his eyes from the view beyond the window.

"Please, Ron," She pushed again. The lump in her throat that she had been fighting so forcefully was straining her voice and threatening to send a cascade of tears pouring down her cheeks. She moved closer, sitting in the chair beside him. Her hand reached out tentatively and rested on his arm. "Talk to me."

Ron pulled away from her touch as though it had burned him. He turned his back to her once more, slumping down in his seat, looking every bit as defeated as he felt.

"There's nothing to say," Ron uttered, his voice had taken on a lifeless tone. He was withdrawing further into himself and it frightened Hermione.

"Of course, there is," She protested, as she lost the battle against her tears. "It's all over now."

"Over?!" Ron argued weakly. "Hermione, my brother is dead. How can you say it's over?"

A sob escaped her lips as she tried to reach out to him again. "No, Ron. I meant the war. The war is over now. I didn't mean Fred…"

When he finally turned to look at her, his aqua blue eyes, usually alight with laughter and determination, were now expressionless.

"Please, don't pull away from me," She urged, edging closer to him, crying harder now. "I'm so sorry, Ron."

Ron jumped to his feet and backed away from her, staring at her coldly. His voice was husky with emotion when he spoke. "You're _sorry_?"

"Yes!" She sobbed. "I'm so sorry about Fr –"

"No! Stop apologizing!" Ron backed up to the wall of the classroom and slowly sank to the floor. "What are your apologies going to accomplish?"

"Nothing. I just… I don't know what else to say," She admitted desperately.

Ron tilted his head back and covered his eyes with his hands in frustration and exhaustion. "Then please… just don't say anything."

After everything they had seen and experienced together, Hermione could never let him slip away from her. It was only a few hours earlier that they had shared their first kiss in the face of an unknown future. Now that they had both made it out alive, Hermione would not allow it to be their last. She knew he needed her just as badly as she needed him.

Taking the seat beside him on the floor, she brought her knees up to her chest and leaned back against the cool stone wall. She turned her head to gaze at him. Torn robes, bloodied face and hands… he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes upon. And the only man she would ever love. Even at seventeen, she was sure.

She observed him as she cried silently. His brow was furrowed in angst, fighting against the impending release of his suffering. His pain was so apparent that it wounded her just to see him… it was excruciating. She could feel it all around her, agony and grief.

Stifling her sobs, she risked touching him again. She inched closer to him on the floor. His hand lay limp in his lap; she brushed her fingers lightly against his palm. This time he didn't pull away. She laced her fingers through his.

Ron pulled his other hand away from his brow and cast his eyes downward to watch as Hermione clasped his hand in both of hers, gently lifting it to her lips and placing a soothing kiss upon the newly scarred skin.

Her thumb ran over a cut on his forearm in a feather-light touch before she placed a kiss there too.

She, then, lifted his hand further, placing his palm against her still wet cheek and leaned in to his involuntary touch.

Raising her chocolate brown eyes to meet his, she captured his gaze.

Ron opened his mouth in an attempt to refuse her contact again but this time, it was Hermione who halted the speaking.

She raised her fingers to his mouth tenderly.

"Don't say anything," She repeated his words back to him in a whisper.

As their eyes bore into one another's, Hermione could read Ron's sorrow as it began to surface. His hand still cupped her cheek and his thumb caressed her skin almost imperceptibly.

Ron licked his lips and started to say something else when, instead, he stopped as a tear broke away from his eye and trailed down his face. He brushed it away roughly.

Raising herself up onto her knees, Hermione leaned inward to place a solemn kiss upon Ron's forehead. The fresh tragedy shone through his blue eyes as he looked at her with confusion and misery.

She kissed his cheeks where the renegade tear had just fallen.

She kissed his eyes that had witnessed the deaths of so many that they loved.

But she paused within inches of his lips when he spoke.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Ron whispered, his voice laced with the exhaustion that had just caught up with him. He slid his hand away from her face.

Hermione pulled back just slightly, her eyes fluttered upwards to meet his. "I'm letting you know that you are not alone," She said thoughtfully.

"Why? You feel sorry for me?" He asked grimly, turning away from her.

"No, Ron," She retorted calmly.

"Then why now?" He refused to meet her gaze as he posed the question.

She settled her hand on his chest. "Because I refuse to live with anymore regrets."

"What do you mean?" For the first time she had captured his attention.

"I have fought against my heart for seven years, Ron," Hermione confessed with a fusion of bewilderment and a release of many years of sentiment, hardly sure that the words were coming from her own mouth. "And after everything that has happened, I've realized that life has far too many twists and turns to leave anything left unsaid."

"Like what?" He asked. Ron struggled to comprehend her words despite the emotional turmoil inside him that was making it difficult to breathe.

She crawled a bit nearer to him. Her hand on his chest snaked up to his shoulder.

"Exactly what I said, that you are not alone," She repeated.

"How do you know that?"

"I know, because I'm going to be with you… always."

Ron's blue eyes ignited with realization.

"Why?" He protested weakly.

"Haven't you figured that out yet?" Hermione laughed softly at the naiveté, it was one of her favorite things about him. "I am in love with you, Ronald."

Ron's eyes widened and his heart beat sped up… he wanted to smile; he wanted to be able to react the way he had always dreamt he would when he had fantasized about this moment. But the weight of the pain he felt hindered him.

"But why_ now_, Hermione?" He had resigned himself to an unrequited love so long before that he now feared her words were spoken out of pity. Though he had always wanted _her_, he did not want her sympathy.

Hermione did not take offense. As always she seemed to completely understand everything he _didn't _say. She simply shrugged at him with a small smile. "I've completely run out of reasons not to love you."

The corner of Ron's mouth betrayed him by twitching upwards so slightly that she thought she had imagined it. She pressed on.

"I tried to convince myself I felt only friendship for you but the more I deny it the clearer it becomes…"

"What does?" Ron managed to ask.

"The fact that I don't want to spend another day without you." As the words left her mouth, Hermione felt a wave of relief flooding the place in her heart where she had always concealed her love for Ron Weasley.

Ron stared at her, they were only inches apart. He was staggered by her confession. "You want to be… with me?"

She nodded. "I do."

"For… always?"

"Yes," She admitted at long last. "And it has nothing to do with feeling sorry for you, Ron. It's my own fault for waiting this long to tell you… The truth is I have loved you since I was eleven years old."

Met with a fixed gaze but no words, Hermione ventured to further explain herself.

"You don't have to love me. I know the timing of all this is awful… But I'll wait," She continued solemnly, a glimmer of hope sparked by the hint of a smile on his face urging her on. "For however long it takes –"

"No, Hermione," Ron's firm voice halted her mid-sentence.

Her lips were still poised to speak when his disruption stung her.

"No?" Fresh tears began to tumble silently from Hermione's eyes as she absorbed his response.

"No. I don't want you to wait."

She raised her chin in tear-filled defiance. "I won't let you push me away. Not when we've come this far –"

She was cut off by his deep voice once again.

"Hermione," Ron reached out to her with shaking hands and cupped her face. "I'm saying you don't _need_ to wait. I… love you too but -"

Hermione gasped in a sharp intake of breath.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do," Ron avowed. "But it isn't right… after Fred and everything else…"

"I know," Hermione put in with agreement. The deep cut of the loss of the endearing Weasley twin had wounded them all. "I just needed you to know how I felt."

He contemplated her for a moment.

"You understand me," Ron said. It was a statement, not a question. "You always have."

Hermione nodded and leaned further into the touch of his rough hands upon the soft skin of her cheeks.

The chocolate brown of her eyes mingled with the light blue of his as he drew her face closer to his own.

Their lips brushed. Shivers were sent throughout two bodies.

Before he allowed himself to give in to the heart-racing sensation of losing himself in a kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, battling with his conscience. He hated himself for wanting to kiss her… for wanting to indulge in happiness amidst the tragedy.

As she always did, Hermione sensed his struggle.

"It's alright, Ron. We have the rest of our lives," She whispered.

Ron smiled despite himself. He reveled in listening to the promises of a future spoken by the only girl he had ever hoped for a future with. And a bit of his pain was eased.

"I love you, Hermione," He said more assuredly this second time.

"I love you too, Ron."

He wrapped his strong arms around her bringing her warm body against his. She rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes as her breathing fell into rhythm with his heartbeat.

There, in an empty classroom in the wake of a catastrophic battle, they began to heal.

* * *

_"Our lives are made  
In these small hours  
These little wonders,  
These twists & turns of fate  
Time falls away,  
But these small hours,  
These small hours still remain."_

_**- Rob Thomas "Little Wonders"** _


	2. Time Falls Away

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor any of JK Rowling's wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them.

**A/N:** I had too much fun writing the first installment of _These Small Hours_ to let Ron and Hermione go that easily. I will be periodically adding oneshots to this series. I hope you enjoy them.

**Time Falls Away.**

* * *

**_Two Weeks Later..._**

Hermione awoke to a tapping at her window.

She sat up in bed trying to sleepily ascertain the source of the disruption. Squinting her eyes against the darkness, she was startled to discover Ron's owl fluttering outside the window pane.

"Pigwidgeon!" Hermione exclaimed.

Crossing the cold floor hastily on bare feet, she unlatched her bedroom window. The tiny owl flurried in and buried itself in her warm bed sheets in a shivering heap after dropping a scroll of parchment on her nightstand.

"What's this?" She asked aloud, unrolling the scroll quickly.

Her eyes scanned the familiar handwriting:

_I know it's late but I have to get out of the house. I need to see you._

–_Ron_

She had just read the final word of the letter when there was a light knocking on her door. Hermione bit her bottom lip and walked over to pull the door open.

Ron was leaning against the door frame tiredly, slouching forward, his hands in his pockets.

"Ron," Hermione said breathlessly when she saw him. "Are you alright?"

He shrugged. "I just had to get out of the house. It's too quiet."

"It is three o'clock in the morning. It ought to be quiet."

"You know what I mean," He sighed.

She did. The Weasley family was mourning the recent loss of Fred as well as the friends that had been victims of the war. Over the past two weeks, the Burrow had been unsettlingly silent even during the daylight hours.

Ron's eye caught Hermione's pajama clad body and he managed a smirk as his eyes trailed down her small form.

"Do you always sleep in that?" He asked, his exhausted voice taking on a playful tone.

Hermione looked down at the oversized maroon knitted sweater with the large "R" emblazoned across the chest that was draped over her body, reaching to middle of her bare thighs.

She flushed and smiled back at him shyly.

"Not _always_," She answered as she tugged on the hem of the sweater.

They observed one another in the doorway for a few moments. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself against the chill as a gust of cold night air breezed through the room and she realized that the window was still open.

Turning away from the door, she pushed the window closed.

Over her shoulder she smiled at Ron who had not moved from his position by the door.

"Do you want to… come in?" She asked tentatively.

For some reason unknown to Hermione, she was suddenly finding herself extremely nervous. Though this was not the first time she and Ron had been alone together, it was certainly the first time they had been alone together in her own bedroom.

Ron pushed off the door frame and took a few steps into the room, looking around as though he hadn't seen it before. He had of course. It was the same bedroom at Grimmauld Place that Hermione had once shared with Ginny during summer holiday … but being alone with Hermione in the middle of the night seemed to cast an unfamiliar air about the space.

A trembling lump in Hermione's bed sheets caught his eye. He quirked an eyebrow at her in question.

"Pigwidgeon," She explained. "I _think _he was cold."

"Er… yeah. Sorry about the hour. I can go if –"

"No!" Hermione interrupted suddenly. She took a deep breath and continued on more slowly. "No. I don't mind."

"Thanks," He gave her a relieved smile.

Ron's smiles had been few and far between in recent weeks and it pleased Hermione to no end to know that she may be the reason behind the smiles he did manage to express. She absolutely adored his carefree lopsided grin but she would settle for this slighter smile any day if it meant he was finding moments of happiness.

They moved towards one another and met halfway in the center of the room.

Hermione wrapped her small arms around Ron's waist and his strong arms went round her shoulders. She was nearly a foot shorter than him. He tilted his head and rested his cheek on the top of her head. An involuntary sigh escaped his lips.

"I missed you," Ron murmured into her hair.

She squeezed him more tightly. "I missed you too."

They had seen one another that morning. Hermione and Harry had been spending most days at the Burrow. But whenever Ron was away from her, there was a noticeable void surrounding her. She had come to realize that she only ever felt truly at ease when Ron was with her.

Ron had realized the very same thing… when he was fourteen years old.

Hermione pulled back slightly and tilted back her head to look up at him. She chewed her bottom lip in contemplation.

"What?" Ron asked, sensing that she wanted to speak.

Hermione's brow creased in thought, as though she was waging an internal debate with herself. She took a deep breath and posed the question she had been wanting to ask him for over a year.

"Do you want to stay the night?"

Her words came out in rush and she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Part of her worried what Ron might think of her. She knew he loved her as she loved him but they had agreed not to rush anything because of everything that had happened. A proper time hadn't yet presented itself for them to kiss even. Not since their first kiss two weeks earlier, in the midst of the battle at Hogwarts.

She fixed her eyes on the floor nervously.

All was silent except for Pigwidgeon's soft cooing as he flew to perch upon the wardrobe.

Ron crooked his finger beneath her chin and raised her head until her eyes met his.

His eyebrows were raised in shock… behind the depth of blue eyes, excitement and concern were visible.

"Are you sure?" He asked earnestly scanning her features in disbelief.

Hermione nodded. "Don't you want to?"

Nervous laughter chuckled lightly as Ron spoke. "Er… yeah. I do."

"Me too," Hermione said with a timid smile.

She ducked her head against his chest and held him closely.

"Hermione?" Ron pushed her back gently by her shoulders so he could speak to her. "We don't have to… er… you know. I mean, we can just _sleep_… together."

Involuntarily, her eyes widened with mortification.

"You mean you don't want to – "

"Of course, I do!" Ron interjected quickly. "I really do. I just don't want you to think we have to…"

He trailed off and a cumbersome silence befell them. Their eyes met again and they both suddenly burst into tension-melting laughter at the anxious blushes they both plainly wore.

"I don't know why this is so difficult," Hermione wondered.

Ron grinned, the carefree lopsided grin that even after seven years made Hermione's insides begin to flutter, the grin that she had been waiting weeks to see again, and stated, "Because, it's you and me."

This was one of the moments that Hermione would etch into her memory for all eternity as one of the reasons she adored Ron as much as she did. His uncomplicated wisdom that was only ever revealed at the rare, perfect moments in life was a quality that was uniquely and wholly Ron's.

"Because it's us," Hermione sighed in agreement, with a trace of a smirk upon her face.

"Us," Ron repeated, his blue eyes gleaming. He had never enjoyed the sound of a word so much before. "I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too."

Ron raised his hand to stroke Hermione's cheek gently. His thumb ran across her full lips and he dipped his head, her anticipatory breath gusted against his neck. She moved her mouth closer to his. The moment hung in space for seconds or possibly hours… years, even.

But it was Ron who finally pressed his lips to hers, flesh against burning flesh at last.

The kiss was slow, tentative and thrilling all at once.

Soft, gentle, just the feeling of his lips on hers. A kiss on her upper lip and her lower. She opened her mouth to him. And there they were.

Kissing.

Like they should have done so many years before.

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and Ron's heartbeat began to race. He clutched her petite body to his.

Her nails grazed against his scalp as she ran her fingers through his ginger locks, he groaned into her mouth. They tasted one another. This time there was not a war waging around them… this time they could enjoy every second.

But as their kisses gave way to sighs to hands clasping at one another's eager bodies, so many years of desire were being released that there was no going back now. No slowing down.

A sigh escaped Hermione's throat and her head fell back. Ron kissed her neck, sending goose bumps across her body.

"Oh, Ron."

The sound of his name falling from her lips at that moment made Ron's insides turn over in a way he had never experienced before. He gripped Hermione as though his life depended on it and kissed her back more ardently.

Her fingers played at his waist and inching up his shirt, she felt the blazing warmth of his skin. She could not refrain from smiling against his mouth when her hands explored his toned abdomen.

She pulled up on the fabric. Ron broke their kiss for only the time it took to tear his shirt over his head, and took the beautiful witch in his arms again.

He caressed her neck and the silky skin of her collarbone and shoulder that was exposed despite the overlarge sweater Hermione wore.

Reaching up on her toes, Hermione kissed his neck, his jaw and his ear. He shivered at the contact, every part of his body reacting to her touch.

He took her face in his hands and brought his mouth down upon hers again. Kissing her hungrily as the passion mounted.

Hermione could not get close enough to him. She pressed her body so close against his that she could not tell where she stopped and he began. And it didn't matter. She knew… she wanted him.

She lifted her mouth from his to speak. "The door," She gasped before continuing their kiss.

Ron was so engrossed in love and lust that he could not begin to decipher her cryptic words.

"Hmmm?" He asked against her lips.

"The door, Ron," She managed to whisper. "Close the door."

Ron's insides did a somersault. He swallowed heavily and rushed over, slamming the door shut with his foot. In seconds, he was sweeping Hermione up in his arms and leading her to the bed where he lay her down gently.

He sat on the edge of the bed and bent down to kiss her. His hand tousling her hair lightly, then making it's way down her soft cheek, over her shoulder and ever so gently, bordering on her small, firm breasts.

Hermione covered his wandering hand with her own in silent encouragement. She nibbled his lower lip tenderly.

Ron's hand paused only a second before continuing down her body, taut stomach, toned thighs… until he reached the hem of the sweater… the very sweater he had loaned her one chilly Christmas morning two years earlier.

He hesitated. Everything he had ever dreamed of was at his fingertips and he was terrified. Elated, but terrified.

Their eyes met. Hermione smiled at him.

She sat up and crawled onto her knees. Kissing him deeply, she held his gaze as she slowly guided his hands beneath the woolen sweater as he pulled it over her head with trembling hands.

As the sight of Hermione in nothing but light blue panties came into view, Ron dropped the sweater to the floor.

He gulped.

"Hermione… you… you're-." There were no words, at least, none that he was aware of that could even begin to describe how stunning she was and how it made him feel.

She smiled shyly and pulled his hands around her to feel their bare skin against one another, warm and exhilarating.

"You're beautiful," He was finally able to say, his hands roaming over the smooth skin that covered her gorgeous body.

His lips grazed the hollow of her throat, then gradually traveled down her chest. He covered the tip of one of her perfect breasts with his mouth.

Hermione moaned and joined their lips again. She sheepishly allowed her fingers to tease the button of his jeans.

Ron's hand swept across her panties and over her thigh.

She unhooked the buttons on Ron's pants and together they pushed them to the floor. Ron stepped out of the jeans and finally joined Hermione as they both lowered onto the mattress.

Holding one another tightly, Hermione could feel Ron's eager arousal through his boxer shorts. Curiosity urged her on as she lightly wrapped her hand around his length through the fabric.

Ron released an unrestrained groan.

Hermione's heart seemed to skip a beat when their eyes met, both shining with lust and adulation.

In a frenzy of kisses and caresses the two remaining garments were discarded hastily. Ron hovered above her, his heart ready to burst, as he gazed upon Hermione's beaming face, her curly locks splayed out upon the pillow.

She looked up at him beneath hooded eyes and chewed her bottom lip.

He was poised between her legs, as they teetered on the edge of an uncertain excitement, where neither of them had ventured previously.

Ron bent his head and took her mouth in a searing, soul-stirring kiss.

His arousal pressed against her hot center.

Hermione placed her hands on Ron's hips and helped to guide him to her. Amid murmured "I love you's" and languid kisses, Ron eased himself into her.

His breath hitched in his throat. He was inside of her. Warmth overtaking his body in a rush of intense pleasure.

He gradually yet firmly urged himself forward until he felt her barrier. Hermione's shaking hands tightened around his waist.

Opening his eyes, he saw her flinching in anticipation of the pain, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Open your eyes, Hermione," He coaxed her, kissing her cheeks.

She lifted her lids slowly and looked up at him.

"Do you –"

"Yes," She said assuredly.

"You're sure?"

Hermione nodded and relaxed into Ron's kiss as he covered her mouth with his.

"I love you, Hermione…"

He pressed into her, feeling pressure followed by the tearing of skin as Hermione emitted a sharp intake of breath. She tightened around his length.

He remained still, searching her features for encouragement or pain and met her gaze again.

She smiled lovingly.

"I love you, Ron."

Hermione ran her hands over his chest and raised her hips slightly to feel him more firmly inside of her. The reality of their two bodies conjoined as one, stimulated every one of her senses.

He pushed the rest of the way into her, warmth enveloping him. A sensation unlike one he had ever dreamt of became overwhelming.

Little by little, Ron began moving within her. Her wetness giving away her own intense arousal.

The only clear thought in Ron's mind was his all consuming love for this woman. Their bodies molded together with such flawlessness that there was no doubt in his mind that this was it for him. This was where he was meant to be.

With Hermione. For always.

Hermione raked her fingers down Ron's back as she moved against his soft strokes.

Ron withdrew himself almost entirely before driving back into her.

Then again.

And again.

Hermione met him, thrust for thrust. Her hips rising and falling in perfect harmony with his.

Their tempo increased. Panting, they matched their partner's every move.

Ron paid passionate attention to Hermione's exposed skin. Her neck, her shoulders, her breasts… he kissed them all in turn. Her eyes, her nose, her cheeks. He made love to her with his entire being.

They drove against one another with fervor… a fiery burning of desire began to spread through both their bodies.

"Oh God, Ron!" She gasped with shaking breath, her body trembling with impending climax.

Ron thrust in and out of her vigorously. Yearning building up inside of him, urging him on, moving faster and faster.

His chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow, his mind swirling with nothing but intense pleasure, Ron verged on his release.

He pushed himself onward until he thought he would surely explode when Hermione pled with him.

"Ron, please," She panted. "I'm close."

No more encouragement was necessary.

One more solitary thrust into her depths and their bodies shook as they both exploded in a crescendo of physical love and earth shattering rapture.

Ron spilled himself into her and together they rode the waves of pleasure, the aftershocks of their exhausting physical convergence.

Together they collapsed back onto the bed in ecstatic dizziness, catching their breath.

Ron rolled over to face Hermione and brushed the sweaty strands of hair from her brow and kissed her forehead.

"You're incredible," He whispered hoarsely as he pulled the blanket over their huddled bodies.

Hermione cupped his face with her hand and kissed him deeply, caressing his cheek with her fingers.

"And you're amazing," She answered with a coy smile. "I'm glad you stayed."

Ron laughed lightly and drew her against him.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * *


	3. All of My Regret Will Wash Away Somehow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter nor any of JK Rowling's wonderful characters. I am merely borrowing them.

**A/N:** As with all the one-shots in this series, the title comes from Rob Thomas' song, "Little Wonders". In my profile, you will find a link to the music video.

**All of My Regret Will Wash Away Somehow**

**

* * *

  
**

_**One month later…**_

"Mrs. Weasley, really. You don't have to throw me a birthday party. It doesn't matt-"

"You are not going to talk me out of this, Harry. I've already invited the guests. Besides, we could all use the distraction, love."

Ron paused on the stairs when he heard his mother and best friend's voices coming from the sitting room below.

His chest tightened at the sound of his mother's voice breaking with emotion.

"Mrs. Weasley, please – ," But Harry gave in. Mrs. Weasley's happiness meant more to him than being stubborn about a party. "Alright… we'll have a party. Thank you for doing all this."

Ron descended the remaining stairs and watched as Molly gave Harry a watery smile and patted him on the cheek before rushing off to the kitchen where she had at least a dozen pots boiling away furiously.

"Hey, Harry," Ron approached his friend as his mother disappeared into the other room.

Harry nodded his greeting. "I'm really not sure this party is a good idea. Can't you talk her out of it, Ron?"

"Not a chance, mate. She's been planning for weeks. It's the only thing that is keeping her mind off Fred."

"I know," Harry said solemnly. "It just doesn't seem right to be celebrating my birthday. After everything…"

"You mean, after you saved us all from the darkest bloody wizard of all time?" Ron smirked.

"You know what I mean."

"Look, Harry. I'm with you on wanting to skive off the party but I really think we could all use a laugh."

"Alright," Harry nodded. "I suppose it will be good to see everyone."

"Right. Hermione's invited her parents," Ron said, swallowing heavily.

Harry suppressed a chuckle. "You aren't nervous are you, Ron? You've met Hermione's parents before."

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I know. I'm not nervous… But when I met Mr. and Mrs. Granger before Hermione and I weren't…"

"Shagging?"

"Together," Ron corrected stiffly, his cheeks reddening now.

Harry laughed. "Come off it, mate. It will be fine. You wouldn't have let me act nervous around your parents when Ginny and I started – "

"If you say 'shagging' I might hit you."

"Dating. I was going to say dating," Harry placed a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. "It'll be alright, Ron."

Ron nodded but still looked a bit peaky in Harry's opinion.

* * *

"Ron! Are you coming down to the party or not?! Hermione's just arrived with her parents and she's looking for you!"

"I'll be down in a minute, Ginny!"

Ron took a long, steadying breath and looked in the mirror. He tugged on the hem of his brand new, slate blue sweater. He had bought it especially for the party, spent a fair amount of money on it as well… and it itched horribly. But he wanted to make a good impression on the Grangers and he didn't feel that his mother's homemade maroon sweaters with the large "R" embroidered across the chest would have quite the same effect.

Running a comb through his slightly shaggy hair, he frowned, realizing he ought to have cut it. He momentarily debated trying to cut it himself or seeking a spell that might work but wisely decided against it. It would just have to do.

Ron exited his bedroom and climbed down the stairs, easily following the sounds of merry voices and the warbling tones emanating from the Wizard's Wireless. Walking out into the backyard, he was met with a crowd of his family and friends, all gathered to celebrate Harry's birthday.

He immediately spotted Hermione across the yard. She was introducing Neville to her parents who, despite their apparent happiness to be meeting their daughter's friends, looked decidedly out of place.

As though Hermione had sensed his presence, she turned and their eyes met at once. She smiled broadly and gestured for him to join them. He took another deep breath and walked towards her, tugging at the collar of his sweater, growing itchier with each step.

"Hi," Hermione smiled as he approached. He adored the way her cheeks tinged slightly pink when she looked at him. Perhaps it was a recent development or he just hadn't noticed it before but he was incapable of wiping the silly grin off his face every time it had happened.

Hermione turned to her parents. "Ron, you remember my parents, Richard and Jane. Mum, Dad, you've met Ronald before dur-"

The introduction was interrupted, however, by Mrs. Weasley who, having just noticed the Grangers, hastened over and began embracing them tightly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger! When did you arrive? My goodness, what a terrible hostess I've been! Have you eaten anything yet? I spent all day in the kitchen! You absolutely must try some of my homemade pumpkin pasties. Made from scratch! They are quite a delight, if I may be so bold as to flatter myself. But, oh my, have you met everyone yet? No, no, of course you haven't! Come along with me and - "

"Mum!" The edge in Ron's voice was borderline whiny but he was desperate to shut her up. Giving her a warning look, she nodded.

"Oh, alright. I'll be by later to see that you all get plenty to eat," She smiled, reaching up to fuss with Ron's hair. Adding under her breath, though not nearly quiet enough for Ron's comfort, "Honestly, Ronald! It wouldn't kill you to cut this mop of a hairstyle."

"Mum…"

"Alright, alright," Molly smiled at her guests once more before bustling off to harass the other party-goers with her homemade delicacies.

Ron turned back to the Grangers. "I'm sorry about that. She's a bit excited."

"She's lovely," Smiled Mrs. Granger genuinely.

Ron exhaled.

He was terrified that his crazy family would scare the Grangers off for good. He so badly wanted them to approve of him.

There was an awkward pause that followed. Ron shuffled his feet uncomfortably, harnessing all of his strength not to scratch beneath his suffocating sweater. He caught Hermione's eye and cleared his throat.

"Right… Mum, Dad, you remember Ronald?" Hermione spoke up quickly.

"As though you would let us forget, dear?" Mr. Granger chuckled.

"Hermione speaks of you and Harry all the time, Ronald," Mrs. Granger said warmly. "It is so nice to see you again."

Ron extended his hand and shook both of their hands firmly; maybe a bit too firmly as Jane Granger winced vaguely before he released her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine," Ron insisted formally.

"We were so terribly sorry to hear about your brother, Fred," Mrs. Granger added somberly.

Her comment caught Ron off guard and he nodded, trying to maintain his calm demeanor.

"It is such an awful shame." She continued.

"Yes," Ron answered uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck to ease some of the itching. "Thank you… for your… er… condolences."

"So Ronald," Mr. Granger broke another extended silence. "What are your plans now that the, uh, war has ended?"

"Ron and Harry both have been invited to work for the Ministry of Magic as Aurors. Remember, I told you about them? They are responsible for capturing dark wizards and maintaining peace in the Wizarding World."

"Ah, that sounds dangerous," Richard Granger said. "Not planning to finish up at Hogwarts then, Ronald?"

Hermione sniffed. "It is a rather great honor that Ron has been offered this position, Dad. They accept only the very be-"

"Actually, I have been thinking that I may turn down the Auror position and finish my last year at Hogwarts," Ron said suddenly.

Hermione stopped and turned to him.

"What do you mean, Ron? Just yesterday, you couldn't wait to start the Ministry's training program and – "

"Well, yes," Ron interrupted, smiling stiffly at her parents, "but I have a_lways_ said that there is nothing more important than getting an education."

"When have you ever said that?" Hermione asked him with puzzlement written all over her face.

Ron began to scratch involuntarily as he became increasingly unnerved by this conversation, and his skin became increasingly irritate by the sweater.

"I've always said that, Hermione. You know that." He attempted to chuckle to appear more relaxed but ended up inhaling a small sweater fiber and began, instead, to cough uncontrollably.

George chose that moment to approach the foursome, having noticed Ron's apparent discomfort.

"Are you alright, Ronnie-kins?" He taunted his younger brother. "Choking?"

George pounded Ron on the back a few times for effect, sending the younger Weasley stumbling forward.

"Kids!" George exclaimed with a smirk. "You can't leave them alone for a moment. They'll put just about anything in their mouths, won't they?"

"Ge- George- Get off!" Ron managed to sputter between hacking up fragments of sweater and scratching his arms roughly.

George stepped back. "Alright, alright. No need to throw a hissy fit, Ronnie-kins." George winked charmingly at Hermione's mother. "And _you_ must be Hermione's younger sister?" He reached out and kissed the back of her hand.

If Ron had not been at the tail-end of a coughing fit, he would have punched his brother. As it was, he simply rolled his eyes.

"May I offer either of you a cool, refreshing beverage?" George asked with mock-debonair charm.

Richard chuckled politely. "Er, certainly,George. That would be very kind of you."

George bowed dramatically and walked off towards the house. Hermione watched him go, shaking her head with amusement.

"It's good to see George in such good spirits. Isn't it, Ron?"

He did not answer, trying as hard as he was to not scratch himself mercilessly beneath his sweater.

"Ron?" Hermione turned to look at him and gasped. "Ron!!"

"What??" He asked gruffly, scratching his back furiously.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're all red, Ron!"

"What are you talking about?" He examined his hands and pushed up his sleeves to reveal blotchy red marks covering his body.

From the corner of his eye he saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger hurriedly take a few short steps back. Brilliant, he thought to himself, they think I've got some sort of contagious skin disorder.

"You must be allergic to this material," Hermione stated, tugging at his sweater. "Here, take it off."

"Wha – Hermione, No. I'm not going to take off my sweater here, in front of everyone!"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ronald. You look like a tomato with a skin rash. Take the sweater off."

Ron looked miserably from Hermione to her parents, who had the decency to act as though they were not paying attention despite the fact that they were standing not three feet away.

Hermione held out her hand impatiently, waiting to take the sweater from Ron. Her wand was already held aloft, undoubtedly to cast some sort of de-itching spell.

Defeated, he pulled the offending sweater over his head and handed it off to Hermione who instantly began waving her wand at it and reciting spells he had never heard before.

She turned to him with her wand out. "Now, let's see about this ra – Oh my." Hermione looked from Ron to his shirt and back up at his face. "Maybe you'd like to go inside and change into something else first?"

Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

At that moment, George returned with two glasses filled with ice-cold lemonade. "Merlin's beard, Ron,what have you got on?!" He shouted raucously.

Ron looked down and, regretfully, remembered that he had been out of clean undershirts when he'd dressed. The only shirt he could find was his ancient orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt that not only bore numerous questionable stains but had a more than a few holes as well. He quickly covered one of the larger holes with his hand after seeing that it exposed a patch of freckled skin near his navel.

"Uh… I didn't have any clean shirts," He tried to explain quickly to Hermione and her parents.

Again, Hermione's parents nodded and smiled politely through somewhat perplexed expressions. They accepted their beverages from George and thanked him profusely.

Ron looked to Hermione helplessly. She did not look terribly happy with him at the moment.

"I didn't have any clean shirts!" He said defensively.

"So you decided to wear the filthiest of the lot?" She said in a loud whisper. George snickered loudly at his brother's humiliation.

"I'll just go and change then," Ron said, offering a wary smile to the Grangers. Before he could escape into the safety of the house, Harry and Ginny approached, hand in hand.

Ginny took one look at a blotchy, red Ron in his bright orange shirt and burst out laughing, causing George to erupt in laughter all over again. "Oh my God, Ron! What in Merlin's name are you wearing? It's ghastly!" Ginny exclaimed.

"I didn't have any clean shirts!" Ron repeated for a third time, near hysterics by now.

"That doesn't make any sense… why would you – "

"Ginny," Harry squeezed her hand, interrupting her next insult to her brother. "Have you been introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"

Ginny tore her highly amused gaze away from Ron and turned to Hermione's parents. "Yes, I have. It's so nice to see you both again."

Richard Granger smiled broadly. "We wouldn't have missed it. The great Harry Potter! It is indeed a pleasure to see you again." He shook Harry's hand for longer than was necessary.

Harry chuckled. "I'm not sure about 'great' but Harry works just fine. I'm pleased to see you both."

"Hermione speaks about you so often and we have heard the most incredible stories of your accomplishments!" Mrs. Granger gushed. "Hermione just thinks the world of you."

"That's kind of you to say, Mrs. Granger," Harry said.

"Oh, you must call me Jane. I insist!"

Harry laughed along with her and shot a quick glance to Ron. He jerked his head in the direction of the house indicating that he was giving him the chance to slip away and change his shirt.

Ron smiled half-heartedly at his best friend and nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged across the yard, listening to the sounds of his girlfriend's parents singing Harry's praises.

He stopped short though when he heard a woman shriek from behind him followed by his father's booming voice. "George! What have you done?!"

Knowing his family as he did, that outburst from his dad could only mean one possible thing and Ron knew that it would not result in anything pleasant. He turned around and forced himself to open his eyes to survey the damage.

As suspected, it was not good.

Mr. Granger's ears seemed to be growing larger at an alarming rate. So rapidly in fact that by the time Ron had sprinted back across the lawn, Mr. Granger's earlobes hung past his waist. Mrs. Granger was no better. Her eyebrows were cascading down so they nearly concealed her entire face and were growing longer with each passing second.

Jane Granger screamed again. "Richard!! Make it stop!"

Ron hurried over, horrified at the scene.

"George, you had better fix this right now!!" Arthur Weasley shouted angrily.

"What were you thinking!?" Ron yelled at his brother.

"I was just trying out some new products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," George said innocently as he tried various counter spells on Hermione's parents.

"George, it isn't working!" Hermione cried.

"Hang on. Maybe I need to reverse the spells…" He pondered aloud.

Ron fanatically tried every counter-spells he had used in the past to reverse the effects of his brother's products but nothing he tried seemed to work.

"Oh, get out of the way," Hermione said with exasperation, clearly worried for her parents. In less than five minutes, she had stopped both her father's ears and her mother's eyebrows from growing. Now she busied herself trying to get her dad's ears, which now dragged on the ground, back to their normal size.

Arthur tried to make light of the situation, asking Mrs. Granger if muggles had any sort of device to tie back eyebrow hair in a fashionable way; which inevitably led him to launch an entire discussion on the absurdity of muggle hair care products.

And just when Ron thought it could not possibly get worse, his mother rushed over and was nearly brought to tears by her youngest son's poor choice in attire.

"I didn't have any clean shirts!!" He shouted over the chaos.

It was useless. This was a complete nightmare.

Ron stomped off and headed toward the house.

He kept walking even when his mother hastened after him, shrieking at him about his disheveled appearance. Ignoring her hysterical rant about how he should be more like Harry or Bill or whoever.

He strode through the kitchen but rather than turning up the stairs to his bedroom, he continued on through the house and out the front door. He walked up the path from the Burrow, kicking at rocks and pebbles along the way. His shoulders slumped and his walk slowed to a dejected stroll.

Well, that couldn't have possibly gone any worse, he thought. He had always been abundantly aware that he didn't deserve Hermione but, until today, he thought there was still a chance. Not now. Maybe their worlds were too different or he was too poor or Harry was too great… there were a million reasons.

He just wanted one day. One day where he could prove to Hermione and her parents that he was the man for her. That there was nothing he wouldn't do for their daughter and that he had never, and would never, love another woman for the rest of his life.

But it was never that simple. Not for Ron Weasley.

He approached the small glade a short ways up the path where he could sit somewhat concealed. Sinking to the ground heavily, he dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

"What a bloody nightmare," he said aloud to no one. "What a complete and utter nightmare."

He had no idea how long he was sitting there but the sun had set in the sky before he noticed that it must have been well over an hour. Clearly, no one was going out of their way to find him. Hermione must be furious with him for humiliating her in front of her parents… she would probably never forgive him.

Footsteps could be heard approaching from the dirt path. Ron leaned down, resting his elbows on his knees, hoping to remain hidden. The steps grew closer until they stopped directly behind him.

Ron sighed. "Please go away, Harry. I don't feel like talking to anyone."

"Ronald?"

Not Harry's voice at all. Ron felt his ears burn hot as he scrambled to his feet. "M- Mr. Granger! I'm sorry, I thought you were… someone else," Ron stammered, attempting to brush the dirt from his pants.

"I thought I'd like to get some air," Mr. Granger said. "Have a seat, Ronald."

"Er… yes, sir." Ron sat back on the dirt mound stiffly, brushing his dirt flecked hands on his shirt… reminding him why he was sitting alone out here in the first place.

Mr. Granger sat easily on the ground beside Ron and looked out over the meadow that spread out before them, barely visible beneath the dimming sky. Ron noticed with great relief that the older man's ears had been restored to their normal size.

The two men sat in silence for so long that dusk was upon them before the stillness was interrupted.

"Sir," Ron croaked before clearing his throat. "I just want to say I am sorry for all the trouble. I really feel awful about everything…" He trailed off. There didn't seem to be enough words in his vocabulary to explain how apologetic he truly was.

Richard Granger observed Ron for a moment before looking back out over the darkening landscape.

"You really care for her, don't you?" He asked the young man.

Ron's back straightened instantly. "Yes – Yes, sir. I care for Hermione… very much."

"I can tell," Richard said with a tiny smile. "She cares very much for you too, you know."

"Yeah?" Ron asked, a bit of sarcasm escaped him. He was near certain he had ruined everything.

Hermione's father nodded confidently. "You know, Ronald. When I met Jane's parents for the first time, I spilled hot tea all over her Mum's white Easter dress." He chuckled at the memory.

Ron laughed despite his current state of upset. "What happened, sir?"

"I went to the toilet and hid for the remainder of the afternoon."

The two men erupted in commiserating laughter at the very thought of the very proper Richard Granger hiding in a toilet.

"Did, uh… Did her parents ever come to – "

"-approve of me?" Richard finished. "Yes, they did. I came to have quite a nice relationship with them both as a matter of fact."

Ron nodded to himself. "That's nice," he offered, not sure what else to say. Spilling tea on an Easter dress seemed to absolutely pale in comparison to the chaos that inevitably ensued whenever his family was involved.

"I checked the toilet first before I came to find you out here," the older man smiled.

Ron shrugged. "One toilet for all those people… not much of a hiding place."

Richard laughed, "No, I suppose not." He looked over his shoulder toward the house. "How long do you think we have before anyone else comes looking for us?"

"We have some time. This is my best hiding spot," Ron attempted a miserable smile.

Richard raised his eyebrows in jest, "It may be a bit more effective if you wore a less conspicuously colored t-shirt."

Ron blushed cherry red and forced a smile. "I suppose you're right."

Another silence befell them. Ron thought back to how this day had gone so horribly wrong that he now found himself being pitifully consoled by the one person whose approval he had sought. For what may have been the millionth time in his life, Ron wished that he could be more like Harry… or an only child if nothing else.

He fell into his thoughts and almost forgot that he wasn't alone. So much so that he jumped slightly when Mr. Granger cleared his throat and began to speak.

"There was something you were hoping to ask me today, wasn't there, son?"

Ron froze in shock. "How- How did you know that?"

"Ronald, any man who has asked a father for his daughter's hand in marriage can surely spot the signs."

"Oh… right," Ron stared straight ahead, his mouth had gone dry.

"Well?"

Ron turned to with a confused expression. "Sir?"

"Have you changed your mind about wanting to marry my daughter?"

"No!" Ron turned towards Mr. Granger. "No, sir. I just thought that… that you may not approve…"

"I think, sometimes, we are far too critical of ourselves and our loved ones, especially when we are wishing to make a good impression. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Er… yeah, I suppose that can happen," Ron scratched at his neck, the blotches seemed to be fading but the itching had not yet disappeared. "If someone wanted to impress someone's parents, that is."

Richard nodded with a fatherly smile. "When it comes down to it, Ronald, I love my daughter and though it is nearly impossible for me to imagine that anyone can truly deserve her, I have no doubt in my mind that you have earned her love as much as you have earned my respect."

Ron could hardly believe his ears. "Sir? Are you giving me permission to ask Hermione… to marry me?"

"Yes, I am, if that is what you wanted to ask me."

"Bloody hell…" Ron clapped his hand over his mouth. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's just that… I- yes, of course I want to marry Hermione. I always have. I… I don't know what to say. Thank you- so much, . I…" Ron trailed off, he began to feel slightly choked up. He surely did not want to start sobbing like a baby and lose 's respect when he'd only just gotten it. He took a deep steadying breath. "Right, then... Mr. Granger, may I... ask Hermione to marry me?"

Richard Granger too looked a bit overwhelmed with emotion. "Just promise me that you'll make her happy. That is all I ask."

"Yes, sir," Ron nodded fervently. "I promise, I promise I will make her happy every day for the rest of her life, if she'll have me."

Mr. Granger smiled a slightly watery grin and rose to his feet. "Well, then it looks like there is just one question left to be asked and it is up to Hermione to answer that one."

Ron could not stop smiling. He was certain he had never in his life been happier to be Ron Weasley than he was at that moment. Because he was finally going to have everything he had ever wanted. When he finally proposed to Hermione, it would be with the wholehearted consent of her father.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much." He stood and offered his hand to the older gentleman who accepted it gladly, returning his hand shake.

"Of course, Ronald."

Just then, Hermione's voice could be heard, calling from a distance. "Dad? Ron? Are you out there?"

"Looks like we've been spotted," said Richard under his breath. Then, much more loudly, "Over here, dear!"

Hermione jogged the rest of the way up the darkened path to meet them. "Here you both are. I've been looking everywhere. I was getting worried."

"Sorry, dear, we just got to talking. Ronald, here, was telling me about that exciting new job he's been offered at the Ministry. You were right, love, he is a mighty impressive, young man." He grinned at Ron then at his daughter.

Hermione blushed hot crimson with embarrassment. "Er… yes, of course he is. Very much so."

Ron beamed down at her.

"Shall we head back to the party then?" Richard asked.

"Yes, we ought to get back. They are getting ready to serve dinner."

"Excellent. I am very much looking forward to those pumpkin pasties your mother spoke of." With that, Mr. Granger headed off toward the house, smiling secretly to himself all the way.

Hermione and Ron walked at a slower pace down the path.

"What were you and dad talking about?" She asked curiously.

Ron shrugged but smiled to himself. "Oh, this and that, you know." He reached out and took Hermione's hand in his, glancing at her with a playful smirk. "So, you think I'm impressive, eh?"

The red flush creeped further up her cheeks. "Well, I may have said that I thought you had matured to a point where you had come to deserve such a prestigious position… for one so young… and I… well…" Her voice trailed off. She gazed up at him and sighed. "Of course, I think you're impressive, Ron. More so every single day."

He squeezed her hand comfortingly. "What a coincidence, I feel the very same way about you."

Hermione laughed aloud as they walked together back to the party.

Ron's heart felt lighter than it had in recent memory, maybe ever. Maybe all the darkness was finally behind them. Now, he thought with elation, he had a future to look forward to… and with any luck, Hermione would be at his side the whole way.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed the third installment in this series. If you can, please take a moment to share your thoughts! Thank you all so much for reading!


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